


Young Volcanoes

by Commissar



Category: Dance Central (Games)
Genre: Comedy, Dancing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slight Bookstore AU, no beta we die like men, no editing we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23539330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commissar/pseuds/Commissar
Summary: Loosely follows the DC Storyline.(Mainly) MacCoy/Reader.(Slight) Mo/Reader.I suck at summaries.
Relationships: Mo (Dance Central)/Reader, Oleksander "MacCoy" Macko/Reader
Kudos: 5





	1. Watchful Commuter

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters are based on a quote MacCoy says when you beat a song with less than two stars.

The subway felt as if it was your second home.

You could argue you spend more time there than anywhere else. It took you from one end of the city to the other. To the library, to school, to work. It took you home and back.  
Every so often, you'd be treated to a group of dancers duking it out as you waited for the last train of the night, heading home after a shift at work or a tutoring session that ran late. It was a way of entertainment, you were amazed by their bold moves and alternative attire. Each viewing session left you energized enough to not fall asleep on the way home or with a song to add to your favorites playlist. It was always a pleasant surprise.

But today was different. 

No amount of flashy dance moves or bass from a boombox could tear you from this lull. You had been lacking in your studies as of late, being burnt out is never easy to cope with, things sometimes slip under the radar. Work, school, extracurriculars, clubs; it all piled up so fast. In the haze of your busy schedule, you had forgotten to get a book for your British literature class, the name of it was easy to remember but finding it, not so much. It was 'Porterhouse Blue' by Tom Sharpe. A satirical take on education in England, detailing the struggles between conservatism and a changing society. 

There were no free pdfs online, it wasn't in your closest library's circulation, it wasn't available from any big-name book stores, nothing, nada, nichts. You could order it from an online retailer but it wouldn't arrive on time. You needed it tonight, the first paper for it was due tomorrow at noon and you were running out of time. 

As a result, your train ride today was spent calling a myriad of local used bookstores in search of it but the answers were always the same; 'Sorry, we don't have that one.', 'We don't place books on hold.', or 'We can't guarantee that it will be here when you arrive.'.

One, however, did strike gold. It was a small used book store on the east side of the city, with one copy in good condition. Not the best but still readable.

It was your diamond in the rough, the needle in the haystack, and it was a twenty-minute ride from your work to the store. You told the person over the phone you'd be there as soon as possible, it was a little after two so you could've taken it easy getting there and not rush around the city as you always tend to do. But you needed all the time you could get and couldn't risk the possibility of someone else snagging the book in your absence.

The low hum of the rails filled the air as you sat, arms crossed in thought, the subway car shook as it stopped and an onslaught of people boarded. The doors closed with a hiss and the cabin shook again as it began to depart. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a group of 3 guys, sticking out amongst the masses. The one that you could assume was the leader was dressed like he was in the mafia; adorned with the signature fedora, scarf, and rings. He was being followed by the two similarly dressed henchmen in suits, which was odd, to say the least. Why the hell were they taking the subway? You pondered over the reasons for their method of travel.

Maybe they were about to teach some unlucky sap a lesson. 

Maybe they were going to defend their turf and wanted to keep it on the down-low. 

Maybe they were a dance crew.

Maybe you were looking too deep into this.

Your attention was pulled from gawking at the group to the transit announcer, the robotic voice chimed out the next stop you would be arriving at. It was right down the road from the bookstore. You gathered your things and stood up, ready to bolt out of the double doors.


	2. Street Walker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking downtown is quite the hike, especially if you're being tailed by someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two, in the future, i'm going to try to update this story a little more frequently. I have so many ideas for it, I'd hate for it to go to waste. So many fic ideas, so little time...

The warm air of the subway station blew in your face as you walked out of the double doors of the subway car.

You smoothed out your hair and uniform, not wanting to look totally crazy even though you were in a rush.

White and grey eased into your vision as the mafioso and his underlings seemed to be heading in the same direction you were, not allowing yourself to be distracted you kept your thoughts from wandering they eventually left your vision, as they filed behind you.

The platforms flooded with people, quickly crowding the already small area.

You tried snaking your way through the sea of commuters as you kept your eyes locked on the stairs that lead to the bustling streets above.

Ascending the steps, the sun's rays bounced off of everything that flooded the area, bright yellow taxis, neon signs and advertisements competing for the attention of those walking below them, mothers with strollers full of children, businessmen in pressed suits barking into their Bluetooth, other children and teens heading home from school for the day all occupied the in navigating the concrete maze that was the east side of the city.

You glanced behind you quickly, checking if the 'mob boss' and his minions seemed to be hot on your tail. Did they have a problem with you gawking at them earlier? It was kind of impolite but you didn't think that was enough to hassle someone about. In an attempt to shake them off you took the scenic route to the bookstore.

It led you to the more metropolitan area, with the beach, the pier, and the downtown area preceding it. Businesses, dance studios, fashion boutiques, and many more occupied the glass fronts of the skyscrapers- all busy with their own agendas for the day.

Keeping your head on a swivel your eyes scanned the signs of the different stores, each with their own decals and slogans. Not too far in the distance, you could make out the Ferris wheel that stood tall above the boardwalk, its flashing sign helping you get your bearing after being dazed from the hustle and bustle of those around you.

Soon enough in your trek, you reached the crosswalk right before the store, its yellow sign with black lettering a railroad crossing symbol on either side matched exactly with picture of it online, _'Crossroads Music and_ Books'.

A wave of relief washed over as you realized this battle was almost won, all you needed to do is get the book and work on the paper.

Seemingly have evaded the extravagantly dressed pursuers, you waited to cross with hounds of people around all waiting for the fluorescent sign to change to a green stickman walking, you started to plan your course of action for the rest of the afternoon and evening; first, you acquire the book, then take the subway back to the other side of town, pick up some coffee from your work on the way home, shower, and work on your paper.

If you finished the paper early or needed a break maybe you could meet up with Emilia at the gym or grab a bite to eat at Mama D's.

"Food sounds like a good idea..." you mumbled as your stomach grumbled, agreeing with your statement. The last time you ate was around ten earlier that morning, you had a nutty granola bar after your psych class washed down with some room temperature iced coffee. Vivid visions of delicious food filled your head, mac 'n cheese, pizza, or even some crispy, salty, fries, still popping with the oil on them.

Completely entranced with the idea of different cuisines lulled you into a daydream of delicious food until you were knocked out of it by someone tapping on your shoulder.

"Huh?" You whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with a name tag in an outstretched hand, your name tag, the title assistant manager scribbled above it in permanent marker.

Your eyes followed the tag to the face of the person who was handing it to you, your eyes meeting with a pair of caramel-colored ones. "Excuse me, _princessa_ _._ I think you dropped this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finally chapter two! Congrats on being an assistant manager of a coffee shop, your talent with people and brewing coffee hasn't gone unnoticed. You've almost made it to the bookstore but your ordeal isn't over yet- you still have a book to buy and a paper to write.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I basing almost an entire fanfiction on a throwaway quote from a ten year-old game?  
> yOU BET. Also, I haven't written anything of note since middle school, rip.


End file.
